


A Present From The Past

by VeronicaFerCard



Series: Aftermaths of War [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Established Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:23:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronicaFerCard/pseuds/VeronicaFerCard
Summary: This year Bucky’s Christmas present is to spend one last day with his mother.





	

“Wha-What’s gonna happen?”

Kobik looked at him with eyes so much older than her small frame. It made Bucky realize how fitting their little family was, three people so much older than they seemed. People who have suffered, made to do things they didn’t want at the mercy of someone else. They fit together.

“She’ll think it’s a dream,” Kobik explained solemnly.

Bucky nodded understanding. “ _When_ exactly are you taking me to?”

Kobik looked uncertain; she glanced nervously at Steve for reassurance, which she received in the form of a smile. She turned back to Bucky. “It’s dangerous to change things too much.” It wasn’t a question, she was just repeating the same words both Steve and Bucky had told her countless times, and not just about what she was going to do now. They nodded at her, making sure she noticed how proud they were that she had listened, that she had learned. “It’s the day before –” Kobik bit her lip, casting her eyes down, before glancing up again almost pleadingly. “I don’t wanna make you said.”

She was on the verge of tears and Bucky had to swallow around the lump in his throat. He crouched down in front of her, framing her small shoulders with his hands. “Hey, you’re giving me the best present I could ever ask for,” he said with a smile. “I want this.”

Kobik acknowledged him with a curt nod as she brought her own small hands to the sides of his head. Behind her Steve was smiling, his eyes fixed on Bucky. The last thing Bucky saw were his lips moving as they form the words _I love you_. Then everything went white and –

-

“Ma,” Bucky called gently.

Upon hearing the voice Winifred dropped the basket she was holding, turning around so fast she could have broken her own neck with the speed. “James!” She breathed out. It wasn’t loud, she had never been loud.

He crossed the short distance between them, finally leaving the alleyway he’d been hiding. There was no one else around – if that was Kobik’s job or not, Bucky didn’t know – what it mattered was that it was safe for him to leave the shadows. And so he did, just as his ma moved to him, meeting him halfway, throwing her arms around his neck. She was shorter than him by a couple of inches – and a lot lighter – but she brought him down toward her, his face fitting perfectly against her neck, just as it always had.

Bucky breathed her in. Her smell was so familiar and so foreigner at the same time. He never forgot, but hadn’t felt it in almost a century and it made his eyes water. Bucky wrapped his arms around his mom, squeezing as much as he could without hurting her.

They both stood there, shaking silently on each other’s arms for a long moment.

She was the first to move – to make the hard choice, the one that would hurt her but she knew she had to; she was stronger than anyone he’d ever known – taking a step back, Winifred brought her hands to rest on the sides of his face. Her eyes ran over him, inspecting all of Bucky in a matter of seconds. She gasped when it landed on his right shoulder. It was covered by his jacket, but she _knew_.

“I knew,” her voice wavered as she spoke. “Nobody believed me, but I _knew._ ” Taking a hand front his face she clutched the fabric of her dress between her fingers, just above her heart. “I _felt_ it,” she croaked, shaking her head minutely. “My sweet, beautiful James.”

“Ma,” Bucky could barely speak. He didn’t really want to. He wanted to hear her voice. Commit it to memory once again. He wanted to have his chance to say goodbye.

“What happened to you, child?” Winifred asked, glancing again at his left shoulder.

Bucky just shook his head. He was here to make peace with this part of his past, not to ruin his mom’s memories, not to make her suffer. “It was war, ma,” he tried to explain without really saying it. “We all got hurt.”

It was stupid of him, though. He could never fool his mother. “James,” she scolded sternly. “There’s a letter,” she told him through gritted teeth, “A terrible, terrible letter.” Her entire body shook with barely compressed anger. “It broke our family,” his ma confessed.

Bucky knew. Steve told him. The letter about his death caused his father a heart attack. It was why Bucky could never do this with him. Bucky could never come to see him, since his death was the key factor to his dad’s, and seeing Bucky alive would change everything. This was also why his mom was working, even though she was sick and old enough she ought to be in bed right now.

He knew _when_ he was in the past. He knew what day tomorrow would be.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky breathed out, taking hold of one of her hands with his right one. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, ma,” he shook his head, “Any of this,” Bucky confessed.

She blinked, and a couple of tears fell down unchecked. “Of course not, sweetheart. Come,” she said, recovering quickly and tugging on his right hand to pull him along and using her free hand to pick up the basket. “Let me fuss a bit over my boy.”

-

Bucky studied his mother from above the hot cocoa mug on his hands. She was older than he remembered but just as beautiful. Her long her was done up like always, though it was peppered with gray. There were more line around her eyes, more suffering behind them, and he knew most of it was caused by him. Bucky ached.

“You look so beautiful, ma,” he smiled at her, “More beautiful than those gals on the pictures.”

Winifred giggled – a wet sound that scared him and made him think of Steve – but the light blush on her cheeks kept the smile open on his face. “You’re such a flirt, James!” She accused with a small smile of her own. “Just like your father,” Winifred sighed.

“If I could have found a dame like ya, ma… I’d be the luckiest fella around.”

She shook her head, shooting him a knowing glance. “But instead you found the Rogers boy,” his ma completed and Bucky’s heart beat faster at her words.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He placed the mug on the table. “Ma – you knew,” he acknowledged uselessly.

She waved a hand above the table to shoo away his concern. “I’m your mother,” she said simply. Bucky opened his mouth to ask why she never said anything, especially to his father. She had never kept secrets from him. Bucky suddenly wondered if he knew. “All that matters to me,” Winifred said before she could utter a word, “is that you’re happy, Jamie boy.”

Bucky blinked at her, unable to say anything. She grabbed his gloved hands on the table, felt the metal as she squeezed them. Her eyes widened for a second as they shot up to his. For him, it was as if she was looking inside of his soul. It was hard then, to keep the contact. He didn’t want her to see. After a few more seconds Bucky averted his gaze.

“How are the girls?” He asked as he looked down at their joined hands.

“James,” she called firmly. “You look at me, boy.”  He did a few seconds later. Bucky felt his eyes prickled, but hers were dry. She never broke in front of her children. “You never came back, did you child? The war took part of my boy,” she lamented quietly.

Bucky nodded. “I did, ma. It took a long, long time, but I did,” he kept nodding eagerly as he tried to reassure her. “I came back.”

She looked doubtful. “Are you happy?”

“I am.” He couldn’t tell her much; he couldn’t mess with the past even more than he already was, but he supposed a few things wouldn’t hurt. Not if they made her believe he was alright. “I’ve a girl. A daughter,” he revealed with a grin.

“James,” she exclaimed; her entire face lighting up with excitement. “Tell me about her,” she asked with a squeeze on his hands, but this time she didn’t even register the metal.

“She’s so smart,” he shook his head at a memory. “The other day…” and just like that Bucky launched to every story he could think of that he could tell her about Kobik. “There’s something else,” Bucky started hesitantly, after finishing another story about his kid.

“What is it, my boy?” His mother prompted as Bucky bit his lips.

After another moment of consideration, he finally made up his mind; disentangling his hands from hers, Bucky took off the glove from his left hand. A small gasp was the only reaction he got for the metal, but that wasn’t what he wanted to show her.

Bucky placed his left hand in front of her. “We’re married, ma,” he finally announced. “Stevie an’ I. We’re married.”

Winifred looked confused.    “How?” She asked as she eyed the ring. Her fingers hovered above his hand for a second before coming down so lightly he couldn’t feel her touch.

“A lot has changed,” he said vaguely. “You don’t know, but a lot has.” Then he beamed at her, the reality of what was happening finally downing on him. He was telling his ma that he was married, to Steve Rogers. And Winifred? She had tears on her eyes and an enormous smile on her strong – but somehow also delicate – face.

She rounded the table, pulling him up at the same time by his left hand and then they were hugging again. His ma still held him close after they broke apart.

“I’m so proud of you, James Buchanan,” she said, and Bucky shook his head, because he didn’t deserve it. She had no idea what he had done. “You stop that,” Winifred admonished. He had to bite back a wet laugh. Bucky hadn’t known how much he missed her scowling him until this moment. “You,” she began again, placing a calloused hand from years of work on his face. “You are a brave man. I don’t know what happened out there,” acknowledged, her eyes locked on his. “But I know you made it through. Doesn’t matter how long it took you, baby boy. You’ve made it _home_ ,” her voice cracked and he once again felt he should deny her words. Once again she didn’t let him. “You’ve made it.”

“Ma,” he started, not really knowing what to say.

“I love you, James Buchanan. I _love_ you, and I’m proud of you. So proud of you,” Winifred confessed, her thumb stroking lightly at his cheek. “My James.”

Bucky chuckled softly. “Why d’ya never call me Bucky?”

His mother scowled at him meekly. “Cos I gave you a goddamn name, boy, and _Bucky_ sure ain’t it.” She managed to glare at him for a full second before the two of them burst out laughing.

She used to get so mad. After Steve had given him the nickname it didn’t take long for every single person on their neighborhood to start calling him Bucky. Sometimes even the teachers did it. Growing up – Bucky had to be honest – there were times it took him a moment or two to realize someone was calling him if they used his actual name. That was, of course, if that someone wasn’t Winifred Barnes. Much like Natasha – decades later – she refused to call him anything but.

“Mrs. Barnes,” he teased, “are you cussing?”

“You don’t go all smart on me, boy. I’m older than you,” she shot back still grinning. Bucky held his own smile up for another instant, before he let it naturally drop from his face. He had to go. “Is it time?” His ma asked, because she knew him best.

Bucky nodded. “I’m sorry – I –” He wished he had more time. He wished he could take her with him. He wished he could see his sisters. He had to go. “I’m proud of you, too,” he told her. Steve had the serum; Bucky had something like it and a metal arm. He met gods. Kobik was the most powerful being in the universe. “You are the _strongest_ person I’ve _ever_ met, ma.”  He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you best,” he said, just like he used to when he was little. “I love you best.”

-

Winifred Barnes died peacefully in her sleep on December 26th, 1957. It took her daughters and neighbors by surprise, even though she had been ill, because she had being happier the day before than they had seen it in years; since her boy had gone to war.

-

When Bucky returned home Steve tugged him into a bear hug, and Bucky breathed in his familiar scent as they stood there quietly. He knew Steve wouldn’t ask how it had been, and Bucky would probably tell him eventually, but not right then.

He thanked Kobik over Steve’s shoulder and she jumped on their backs when Bucky smiled at her. Steve startled and they all laughed.

It wasn’t the best Christmas of his life.

But it also was.

 


End file.
